


Oddly, odd, against the odds

by Yui_Kuromori



Category: Chilling Adventures of Sabrina (TV 2018)
Genre: Listen i had this idea at 3 in the morning, Platonic Relationship, Set after Season 2, canon ships are here
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-22
Updated: 2019-04-22
Packaged: 2020-01-24 06:07:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18565474
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yui_Kuromori/pseuds/Yui_Kuromori
Summary: They meets at the witching hour.(Or, the weird and cute agatha/harvey friendship fic that literally no one asked for)





	Oddly, odd, against the odds

 She’s running.

 Her lungs hurt and there’s blood seeping through her tights on her right knee. The thing behind her growls and she knows she just needs to reach a lit up place and she’ll be safe. She runs faster, breathes harder and for a second she thinks that she might not make it.

Why did she think going out to collect wild poison ivy in the forest near greendale late at night was a good idea? She got caught up by a bad wolfish spirit and didn’t even have time to utter a spell.

 Adrenaline pumps through her veins and the muscles on her legs burn, the woods around her rush past her body in a blur, and the thing behind her growls loudly, she almost can feel it’s hot breathe on her neck.

 She’s so screwed.

 There’s a light, warm and buttery, coming from in between the woods and she thinks she might be hallucinating. She almost trips over her feet when she runs faster into it’s direction, she can see a small cottage now.

 The thing after her grunts annoyedly and scatters away from the light. She trips and falls over, hitting her hurt knee.

 - Oh my god! Are you okay?

 A masculine voice asks, and she has to look through the hair falling all over her face to properly look at them.

 She meets warm brown eyes and strong brows furrowed in worry, he’s holding a shotgun with disturbingly practiced ease and a brown leather jacket reflects nicely against the soft yellowish light.

 Sabrina’s mortal ex-boyfriend tucks away his weapon and offers her his hand.

 She hesitates, before deciding to reach out for his hand. He pulls her up carefully, as if not to hurt her arm and his eyes zoom in on the bloodstain on her tight, his gaze travels through her body in worry, scanning her for other injuries.

 - What happened to you? Are you alone?

 She’s surprised at how genuinely concerned he sounds, before she brushes it off. Keeping her face carefully blank, she smooths down her crinkled up dress and pushes her hair out of her face, trying to regain as most of her composure as she can.

 - I’m fine.

 He looks a little taken back by her calmness, but seems to get over it quickly.

 - Do you wanna come in? I can patch you up.

 She could deny him. It would be easy to simply teleport back to the academy and quietly slip into bed and try to ignore the pain, rid herself of the humiliation of popping up a bleeding mess in front of her sisters. But something about his look tells her that maybe it would be worth it to try and see what he would do.

 She forces a smile and bats her eyelashes.

 - Sure.

 Again, he seems a little weirded out by the sudden change in her demeanor, buy nonetheless, guides her into the small cottage.

 It’s cozy, she thinks, most of the space occupied by easels and half finished paintings, the round small table has a teapot and a single plate on it.

 - You live here by yourself? In the middle of the woods?

 She doesn’t even has to force herself to sound curious. Not many mortals do that.

 - Yeah. My dad moved into another city for works and sends money. It’s cheaper to live here. It’s kinda isolated, but nice.

 He smiles sheepishly, and she thinks he looks a little like those big dumb golden dogs that the perfect Cristian families always had in mortal magazines. She carefully sits down by the tables and lets her eyes wonder through the paintings. The have disfigured bodies, odd color schemes and disturbing images. She finds them quite lovely.

 - I did those myself y’know? They’re a little weird, but i like them.

 She lifts her eyes from a particularly beautiful anatomy study of a small, feminine, freckled boy and sees him holding a small white box with a Red Cross on it. He quietly sets it on the table and pulls out a blue bottle, some gauze and bandages from it.

 - Can you show me your knee?

 She shrugs and stands up, pulling down her tights. She resists the urge to roll her eyes at the uncomfortable way he looks at anything but her, and sits back down on the chair, plopping her injured leg ungracefully on the chair in front of her. If her sisters saw her like this, she would probably be disowned.

 He smiles, nervously, and proceeds to clean the bloody mess her knee has become with the liquid from the blue bottle and a gauze. It burns and she suppresses a pained hiss, grimacing. It would have been a lot easier to wash it and slap on some healing salve, but oh well, she could do it once she left.

 He wraps her knee up in bandages with practiced ease, and she notices it hurts considerably less. Maybe Sabrina gave the blue bottle to him.

 - Thank you.

 The gratitude in her voice was a lot more genuine than she cared to admit, and he offers her a tiny smile. He doesn’t ask questions and she can appreciate that.

 - I’m Harvey. Harvey Kinkle.

 He says it in a rushed, stumbled way.

 - Agatha.

 He nods, and seems to digest her name a little bit, then leaves the room, comes back with another plate, a spoon and a steaming pot that smelled heavenly.

 - Would you like a late night meal?

 He says with a weird accent and a sarcastic interpretation of class. She nods and takes the plate, then watches him pour himself some of the soup that was in the pot. She does the same and is surprised by how good it tastes.

 - Are you from around here?

 He asks casually, and for a second she sees a sharp glint in his eye, as if he’s measuring her up.

 - You could say that, yeah.

 - Never seen you around.

 She raises an eyebrow and decides to open up the game.  
 

\- Aren’t you a nosy little mortal.

 She kind of expects him to jump away in fear, or to lunge at her in wrath, according to Nicholas, the mortal had become far less tolerant to magic after what happened to his brother.

 Instead, he just nods and drinks more soup.

 - So what were you doing here?

 He keeps it casual, and she notices the effort he’s doing not make her feel attacked.

She decides not to press it.

 - Came to collect some herbs. Got attacked by a rogue spirit.

 He nods again and offers her seconds, and she realizes she has finished up her plate of delicious soup. Oddly enough, she accepts some more, and allows herself to relax a little.

 They eat in surprisingly comfortable silence, and she allows herself to truly study his face. He’s cute, she supposes, in a softer, gentler, more rustic way most warlocks were, with strong features, messy hair and warm eyes, and very, very faint freckles dusting the bridge of his nose. He looks lost in thought.

 She studies the walls again, there are tiny glass frames with butterflies pinned on them and one of the corners had and umbrella holder filled with a variety of guns, the whole house is a contrast of softness and danger and it’s hard to assimilate it to the overgrown puppy that Sabrina had decided to date all those months ago.

 - You know Sabrina?

 He questions, and she knows it’s mostly out of politeness, he probably recalled her name from his ex-girlfriend’s ramblings or simply assumed they were in the same coven.

 - I do, actually.

 She studies him, and for a moment considers toying with him, make him go insane, torture him a bit.

 - Are you friends?

 The thoughts immediately leave her at the sheer innocence of the question. This kid apparently knew how to shoot a gun, helped to close the doors of hell but still held that mortal innocence and purity Agatha never truly understood.

 - Not quite.

 She answers truthfully, and he nods in appreciation. They eat for a little longer and the clock strikes four in the morning. The witching hour is over.

 - I shall take my leave then, mortal.

 She gets up in a graceful motion and the boy does nothing to stop her, he only nods again and offers to take her to the edge of the forest, since the wood spirits never attacked mortals. She denies in hidden amusement. As if he could protect her.

 - Thank you for the meal, though. I appreciate it.

 He smiles and nods again.

 - And mortal?

 - Yeah?

 - Let’s keep this between us ok? Both my sisters and Sabrina would make a scene out of our encounter.

 He hesitates foe a second before he nods in understanding.

 - Good night Agatha.

 She grimaces a little on how casual her name sounds on his lips before nodding and stepping out.

 - Goodnight mortal.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed! Please do comment! They really make me happy and are a great incentive to keep on writing! A critique, a hello, anything is appreciated.  
> Have a good day!  
> Love, Yui.


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